light wet wood on fire
by affability
Summary: Tears are filling up their glasses. / The original ND, before and after.


**a/n: **I was re-watching _Throwdown _and the _Ride Wit Me _scene just made me fall in love ND all over again. I love their friendship and how they all accept other, flaws and all. It also inspired me to write this. I wish we would see more scenes like that next season. Enjoy.

**light wet wood on fire**

_before_

_. quinn ._

No one sees past the ponytail, cheerleading uniform and sparkling green eyes. Her past is left as an unsolved mystery, because she never speaks of it and leaves absolutely nothing for people to trace back to her unhappy days where she was a loser.

Nobody knows the way she looked when she was drenching her hair in blonde hair dye and wiping the tears. They don't see how desperately she clings onto her gold cross during the darker nights, the heavy mascara that stains on her porcelain cheeks, the estranged flashbacks.

The only thing that actually helps her get by is the taste of power she gets when she sashays the bright hallways like she owns it. It makes her feel like she has something to live for. Like she's actually worth something.

And she needs it like she needs air, without it she can't breathe, and she's floating in a ocean of grief and sadness, but it's not like she didn't expect to be here a few years ago. She's not surprised that she lives for the vision in the mirror.

But she will never be anything more than a pretty face masked beneath makeup and seeming perfection.

.x.

_. mike ._

He doesn't think he could ever be himself.

It's just green grass and football jerseys and fake smiles, running behind other team players and losing football games. He doesn't know why, but somehow, when he swirls his foot on the floor beneath him, moves his arms up in the air, a radiant smile is automatically plastered on his lips. He doesn't think he loves doing anything more than he loves dancing.

However, he can't let anyone know that. It would mean going to the complete bottom of the food chain. Well, it's not like he's reigning now, just fading in the background of a group he just appears to be apart of, and no one even remembers his name.

It's terrifying to pop and lock his shoulders outside. Not with curious eyes onlooking. He just can't. He'd rather be doomed to be blending into the background. At least for now.

.x.

. _tina ._

Being surrounded by people who will never see past the stutter, dark makeup is truly disheartening.

She doesn't want to be around people who would intentionally hurt her, and in this school, you never know who you can trust. She pushes everyone away because she's afraid of being judged, of being questioned, of not being good enough.

It's absolutely terrifying. She can't have that. She intertwines her fingers with Artie and just stares at everyone else who completely ignore her, pushing past her as if she were invisible, and snickering as they steal glances at her direction.

She hates the way she feels whenever she's around them. Like her stomach has just sunken sixty feet underwater. She loathes it with every inch of her being. All she really wants is for someone to stay. But everyone will leave.

She's sure of it. Because, time and time again, she's told she's undeserving of their time and respect. And hey, maybe she really is.

.x.

_. puck ._

All he remembers about being younger his his mom and dad's constant fights.

He recalls brutal words being exchanged after dinner, when its midnight and both his parents assume that he and his baby sister are soundly sleeping, he recalls the long, dark bruise on the corner of his mother's jawline, the spark of sadness that appeared out of nowhere when he questioned the scar, and he remembers seeing his dad's gold convertible driving away into the sunlight.

He swears that he'll never become his father. He swears he'll never ruin anyone like his dad ruined his mother. But he knows day by day he's slowly becoming him. And that terrifies him to absolutely no end.

He needs to be acknowledged as someone powerful, he needs to reign, just to feel good about himself for a little while. He throws kids into dumpsters and leaves them there just to remind himself that he can get away with the worst things in life and still be all right.

And he knows it's wrong, but he can't help it. When he does these horrid things, he feels like he's invincible, like he could jump of the Empire State Building and leave unscathed, without a single scar.

He'll go home and strum his guitar and sing lullabies to his sister and she'll light up the room with her smile. Except, when she drifts off to sleep and snuggles under the blankets she's swathed in, he won't stop singing.

He likes the feeling that piles inside when he belts out lyrics, likes the way the sound of his voice and the sound of his guitar strumming blend together to make a melody that makes his heart melt just the slightest bit. But he knows better than to expose his love for music.

After all, that feeling of invincibility might go away once people learn of his guitar playing and songwriting.

.x.

_. santana . _

Because she's just a bitch.

A seductive, diabolical, condescending and aggressive one at that. Her heart is iced cold, unforgiving, her perfection is pieced-together, but her heart melts just a little bit at the sound of Brittany's soft voice, but she is the only one that can get through her. No one else can. And no one else will.

She's not worth it is the conclusion almost everyone will come to after she refuses to let them in. She's just as good at building walls as she is at shattering them. And that's what she does. She breaks other people and tears them into little pieces so they won't notice the fissures under her, the scars that just don't seem to heal, the mascara tracks on her cheeks when she goes home after a particularly bad day of school, the delicate little angel that lies beneath the anger and hatred.

No one needs to know how easy she is to break. Her world is made of glass. Just one wrong move and she's doomed, done for, and over. She builds walls and distances herself away from others in fear of being hurt and betrayed.

She can't be destroyed. She won't end up like her mother. She swears she won't.

Because if she does, then the time she spent building her reputation will be for nothing. She knows that people hate her, loathe her, think the absolute worst of her, and hates that the one time she tries to do a nice thing to get others to change their opinions of her, they assume she has ulterior motives that has devastating consequences for the rest of them.

They're not at fault, though. She'd be scared of her, too. And she is. She's her own worst enemy.

Her wounds are salty and large and wide as streams and waterfalls, she's bruised and broken and her heart bleeds and burns. She's scarred, damaged, and finds some sick pleasure in other people's pain. She knows how to make guys drool and how they melt at her touch.

She thinks it's the only thing that makes her feel good about herself. Seeing their eyes shine in captivation as they watch her hips work make her feel wanted. Her brown eyes will shine as they lean over and kiss her like they mean it, and she knows better to get attached.

She doesn't think anything, or anyone, truly cares about her. Brittany's an exception, because her sparkling blue eyes shone with undeniable emotion when she swore she loved her like a sister. But that's not what she wants to hear.

She wants someone to love her. She doesn't think it's too much to ask. She knows she's probably the most undeserving of love, but she at least wants to experience the feeling of hummingbirds flapping in her chest and butterflies invading her stomach when that special someone walks by.

She just wants to feel like she's loved; wanted, and needed. Like she means anything and everything.

.x.

_. finn ._

He doesn't think he'll ever truly live.

It's just football jerseys and field games and intertwined fingers with Quinn Fabray. She smiles at him and her golden cross will shine under the dim lighting of the school hallway. He thinks he could love her, if she didn't hide her secrets so effortlessly.

Honestly, he's not really living. He's just existing. He's numb, not truly living out a spectacular life and planning out a bright future. He has no idea what's in front of him. Lima is a cage, he's trapped, lost, and trying to get out, but to no avail.

He'll see Rachel Berry at the corner of his eye and in his Science class and envy her determination, her passion, her ambition, and sometimes he'd wish he was more like her. Finn has seen her in action, saw how she mapped out her life and knew exactly what to do with it, knew exactly who she is.

Him? He doesn't think he'll ever bold out and do something that'll startle everyone and start living. Finn wishes he could, but he doesn't even know where to start.

He'll just lie back on his backyard, humming _Don't Stop Believing _and _Can't Fight This Feeling _under his breath just to take his mind off things. He wishes he knew what to do, where to go, how to live.

It seems that he'll spend the rest of his live just trying to get by.

.x.

_. brittany ._

And she's just another scatterbrained blonde.

Except, she's so much more than that. Her intelligence doesn't have to be measured up to what letter is on the right side corner of her test papers, or the number on the scale, she's smart in her own way.

She's observant, she's bright, skilled at dancing and easy to work with. She's positive and perky but everyone else assumes that just because she's not ready to give up her childlike innocence and the little dolls she's stupid. But she's not. And Santana is the only one who believes her.

She makes an effort to grow up. She'll find herself tangled up in boys and parties and stars. She'll stain her lipstick on another boy's mouth and try to dig her blue-colored fingernails into some other guy's skin (she learnt it from Santana) and she'll pull back the moment she'll hear him whimper.

They'll all grin at her and their eyes will shine, they'll kiss her and she'll shiver as they call her _beautiful_. She knows she is. She doesn't need them to tell her. She's really just playing a role; of a lost princess, trapped in the forest and waiting to be rescued.

But, she's not really going to end up being rescued, she thinks, because there's no knight in shining armor and she's not really a princess and one day her whole world will come crashing down and Santana might not be there to save her.

But, when the Cheerios perform their group numbers in front of audiences and she works her hips and shoots a leg up in the air, she feels the captivation and adoration from the crowd and grins widely.

But after that its back to drinks and parties and blurred out voices, unfamiliar lips against hers and slurry laughter. Then, she'll write a letter to Santa and pull out another little doll from her and feel young and innocent again.

.x.

_. matt . _

He's just blending and morphing into the spaces between the background.

Matt knows that one day he'll make a name for himself. But right here, right now, it's impossible. The onlooking curious eyes are scary, terrifying, and he doesn't dare to do anything but run through fields and smile at cheerleaders who raise their pom-poms in celebration.

As he watches at the glee club from a distance, he thrums his fingers and begins to he admires their confidence. The judgmental stares from his teammates are too much for him. Imagine the entire school.

He breathes in heavily, feeling the world forming into a blameless shade of black and white as he tries to figure out what to do with his remaining days of high school. He wonders if what he does today will echo throughout the rest of eternity.

He wishes he could find some sort of way to be different. He remembers late nights where he'd look out his window and see the glimmering stars and wish so desperately to reach out his hand and grab one.

He wishes he could jump off the rooftop and soar throughout the dark night sky, staring down the town and going nowhere. Maybe one day he actually would.

.x.

_. rachel ._

Fairytales are nothing but sugarcoated lies.

She has lost faith in every storybook filled with golden-haired princesses and knights in shining armor and the hope that she would someday be rescued by a boy with an undying and unbelievably strong love for her long ago.

It ruined her; made her think that anything in the world would be possible as long as you had love. She was not a princess, and, despite the number of people that told her otherwise, she was not beautiful. At least, she didn't think she was.

She'd step in front of the mirror and draw in a heavy breath when she'd see the reflection and fight the heavy urge to break the mirror into millions of pieces. She runs a finger through her dark hair subconsciously and furiously blinks back the tears.

All she wants is to be beautiful.

.x.

_. artie ._

He idles by the sidelines, strumming the guitar his father got him for this thirteenth birthday, and earnestly wonders if he'll ever be able to break out in song and dance like he used to.

He remembers laughing and running along green fields and throwing his head back, seeing the blue, blue sky and listening to Tina's estranged laughter. Artie stays in his rooms and writes a million and one songs and stacks them in his drawers because he's sure no one is ever going to hear him sing.

It's disheartening to learn that he'll most likely never dance ever again. Not with his legs paralyzed and his arms pushing the wheels of his chair. Honestly, he hates it. Hates feeling like he's trapped and wishes so earnestly to just get up and dance and be free.

He doesn't think he can ever be apart of anything. He's all logic and reason and sucks the fun out of everything. But Tina shakes her head and places a possessive hand on his shoulder and tells them to stop and he lets a smile play on his lips.

He misses the that used to adrenaline thread through his veins when he danced and now that he can't anymore, won't dance again, he's terrified that he'll never experience that amazing feeling ever again.

.x.

_. mercedes ._

She's really just broken inside.

Of course, no one thinks so. And why would they? She gives the impression that she's afraid of nothing and nobody, she walks with her head held high and glares daggers at anyone who drags her spirit down. She knows one day people will admire her for this.

Nobody knows that her confidence is really pieced together and her life is actually filled with broken promises and sore tears, though. Her heart aches and bleeds when she's reminded of her ugly past of lies and hatred, of when she was excluded and ignored and berated for being different.

She demands respect because she had so little from when she was younger. Nobody really gets it. How desperately she needs the admiration from others because it makes her feel like she's worth something. If she doesn't have it, she is nothing.

Her smiles and smirks are strained and forced, her laughter is rarely genuine, and her eyes have lost the light and now lingers with open sadness when she's alone at night in her room, sheets draped over her and cold breezes against her skin.

She really just needs something to remind her that she's special. She needs someone to take her home, to bring her aside and tell her that they love her, that she's perfect, even when she's not.

But really, she's just hoping for the impossible. Why would anyone do that?

.x.

_. kurt ._

Dishonesty is his specialty.

He knows how to lie. Knows to pretend that he doesn't spot those little Paris Hilton shoes and smile lightheartedly when his father is around and dragging him around the town, buying new supplies for his shop. He knows he can't let anyone know.

He lies to everyone. Lies that he doesn't think the latest Gucci bag is adorable. That he doesn't spend his time sneaking _Seventeen _and wedding magazines under his mattress and reading it in the half-light at night. And it's almost easy.

He lies so many times it's beginning to feel like the truth. Sometimes, he lies to even himself, as well. He convinces himself that its not who others are just beginning to realize he is.

Kurt's really afraid of the consequences, but mostly afraid of hurting his dad, because he knows how much he wants to sit down and talk about a football game with him or discuss about his girlfriend problems.

He's dishonest in more ways than one. And honestly, sometimes it sickens even himself. But he can't face the truth, because he's afraid; afraid of the consequences, afraid of the world of protest and endless hate coming his way, so he lies.

Eventually, he'll lose the game he's set for himself and he'll have to come clean. He knows this. And is absolutely terrified of it, of the fateful day where he loses and falls, and ends up admitting the truth.

.x.

_afterwards_.

Slowly, each one of them start joining the club, stepping out of the background and tearing the pieces of themselves for others to see. They start meeting up after school and goofing off together, dealing with sadness and depression.

They all stop lying altogether. To their loved ones, and, evidently, to themselves. Their eyes sparkle with tears and it streams down all of their faces, lands in their glasses, and their world is growing more and more fragile by the second.

Soon, singing becomes more than just an enjoyable pastime for them. It becomes part of each one of them. It consoles them during the darker nights. It allows them to release all of the pain and anger building up inside them, release the sadness, and in the end they feel freer.

They're all broken, all in more ways than one, but their fissures start to decrease, their eyes stop looking dim and emotionless, their tears stop falling, and their hearts stop aching. Soon, they stop morphing into the background and begin to feel like one big happy family.

They're not alone anymore. They've morphed into each other and learned to forgive and forget. They've learnt to love. They've learnt to live.

Inside all the sadness, all the sore tears, and all the isolation, they've somehow found each other, and completed each other more than they ever thought they could.

Glee Club isn't just something that they do for fun, its something that they love, something that makes them feel wanted and special, make them feel like they're going to do great things one day, makes them feel amazing. Like the stars they now know they are.

It's never going to end.

.x.

**a/n: **Hopefully, I did the characters justice. I just really, really wanted to write something that expresses how the characters were before glee club. Reviews are greatly loved and appreciated. I would love to know how well I did trying to get inside the characters's heads. Thanks.


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